Have a Very Happy Birthday....
by Tar-Palantir
Summary: It happens every year, and every year Snape can't stand it. The anniversary of his birth is the last thing he wants to celebrate, and this will probably be the worst yet. v. short fic, will only be a few chapters. *LAST CHAPTER UP!!!! YAY!!!!*
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Severus Snape, Minerva McGonnagall or any other characters in this fic, they are owned by JK Rowling. I also do not own Ford Prefect, though sometimes I wish I did, I think we can have a lot of fun together. I do not own a digital watch, or the coast of Norway, though I wouldn't mind having either. I don't own anything. I have no assets so call off the lawyers.  
  
For Janerus, on her Birthday.  
  
A/N: Sorry, Severus' Character is kind of a cross between Ford Prefect and Prof. Snape. Minerva also reminds me of Ford Prefect. Maybe I should just write a fic about Ford Prefect. I also apologise for Hagrid, and his way of speech. Does not contain digital watches or the coast of Norway.  
  
Professor Snape was glaring broodingly at his desk, contemplating another year gone. Damn he was getting old. His black hair wasn't nearly as black as it used to be. Luckily he knew a good potion for dying the hair black. Luckily he had the address of a muggle shop that sold black hair dye. He never liked concocting black hair dye potions. McGonagall learnt to know the smell of it, wafting up from the dungeons, and would always come down to tease him. She didn't worry about dying her hair. Everyone knew she was old, very old.  
  
Light glimmered through the low clouds onto the snow-covered ground, signalling the dawn of another long, tiresome day full of ignorant dunderheads who couldn't tell Polyjuice from Veritaserum. He would like to use some of that Veritaserum on a couple of students, that would provide some entertainment, a special treat.  
  
He had to face the day sometime, preferably before it ended. He picked him self up and stalked up the corridor to the Great Hall for breakfast. He entered the hall and enjoyed the hush which went before him and the whisperings of contempt which followed him. Why he enjoyed it he didn't know. He just knew that he enjoyed it. Albus was wearing a wider grin than usual. So he had remembered, how very annoying. Albus said nothing, but kept smiling, Snape said nothing. At least I'm not as old as you, he thought. Minerva entered the hall full of purpose. 'Happy Birthday' she grinned. She knew this annoyed him greatly, and did it every year. She would have stopped after Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup and he finally shut up about how crap Gryffindor was, but she enjoyed it so very much.  
  
Professor Snape glared broodingly at his toast, so, another year gone. He didn't need Minerva to rub it in. He hated birthdays. Well, he thought, suppose I'd better eat this toast. The toast was cold, which annoyed him greatly. All he needed now was a great big birthday cake and all of Hogwarts to sing him 'Happy Birthday' to succeed in making this the worst day he could remember, (except perhaps that time in the forest with that Hufflepuff sixth year, or when stupid Sirius and James tried to kill him, or when Madam Pomfrey suspected him of sending her anonymous love letters, or when Madam Pomfrey suspected him of sending her anonymous hate letters - no, that was a very good day).  
  
He looked up from his toast and saw Albus, still wearing that inane grin. He moved his eyes from Albus' face in disgust and was soon preoccupied, glaring at random students who happened to get in the way of his wandering eyes. This school was the place he really felt at home. This was the place where he lived and worked. This was the only place he could glare at students for no apparent reason and get away with it.  
  
The potions dungeon was dark, cold and quiet. Just as he liked it. Soon mindless students would fill the room with noise and clatter. He could hear them coming. Out of the great hall, down the stone steps and into the dungeon corridors. They came in, Weasely, Granger and Potter. How typical, arriving on time just so he didn't have an excuse to yell at them. They all crowded into the dungeon classroom, over the general noise he heard three distinct words: 'Happy Birthday Professor' It was Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Damn them. Then there was a general whispering, where the word 'birthday' was used a lot, which displeased him greatly. 'Finnigan, detention and twenty points from Gryffindor' he said composedly. The room went silent. Good, he thought, nothing like taking off house points to control a class and start the day. 'What?!' said Seamus in disbelief. 'For saying 'happy birthday'?' 'Ten more points from Gryffindor, and it'll be fifty if you say it again.'  
  
The class went smoothly after that. There was an air of tension and confusion about the class, but he didn't care. Let them be tense and confused. As soon as they were out of the classroom door they all started talking at once. 'Why didn't he like you saying 'happy birthday'?' 'Is it really his birthday?' 'How do you know?' 'Something McGonagall said.' 'Thirty points. Thirty!'  
  
Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad day after all, thought Severus.  
  
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	2. Chapter Two - can't think of a better na...

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Professor Snape glared broodingly at his quill in his hand, so another year gone. He had thought about not going to lunch, he couldn't handle Minerva's stupid remarks, or Albus' inane grin. He was pretty hungry now, and he couldn't go to the kitchens to get food. Those house elves didn't like him any more. Just because he kicked one after it knocked over a potion, consequently turning a desk into a depressed flowering shrub that could talk. He hated that desk with a passion now. Everyone would ask if he wasn't at lunch. Then McGonagall would probably 'accidentally' let it slip that it was his birthday, just like he had let it slip that Lupin was a werewolf.  
  
He walked up to the teachers' table in the great hall. Albus, on seeing him, immediately assumed the smile he wore at breakfast. He was right, he couldn't handle it. He turned to walk out in a dignified manner, only to meet Minerva's smiling face.  
  
She swept past him. She enjoyed torturing him. He felt that she was hiding something. He always knew when she was hiding something. But then again she probably wasn't, just acting like she was just to torture him. She assumed her seat and stared expectantly at him. Damn it, he thought, now he had no choice but to sit down for lunch.  
  
Professor Snape was glaring moodily at the roast lamb on his fork, contemplating another year gone when Harry and Ron approached the teacher's table cautiously. They were looking for Hagrid. They hadn't seen him all day and he wasn't in his cabin. They were, for once, making a totally innocent enquiry. Snape glared at them. Harry averted his eyes, as he usually did. 'Professor?' Hermione addressed Minerva. Snape glared at her, she looked the other way. 'Yes?' asked Minerva. 'I was just wondering if you knew where.' she trailed off. Snape was giving her one of his worst looks, and was satisfied with her reaction momentarily before he realised that the general hush which was spreading throughout the Great Hall was not a response to the glare he practiced every potions lesson, and had now unleashed on Hermione. A glittering insect was sweeping towards the teachers' table. His eyesight was failing, if it wasn't he would have jumped up and ran straight out of the Great Hall screaming, all dignity forgotten. By the time Severus recognised Sybil Trelawney it was too late. 'Aaahh, Sybil, what a pleasant surprise.' Said Albus pleasantly. 'I saw myself leaving my solitary luncheon to join you in the physical world, to celebrate a special event I believe.' Said Sybil mistily. 'And what event might that be?' asked Albus conversationally, obviously amused. 'That the fates have not informed me, but who am I to ignore their promptings?' said Sybil even more mistily. Severus was looking at her as if he wanted to strangle her, probably because he did want to strangle her. Last year she only offered to crystal gaze for him, to see the year ahead. He had never thought she would come down from her solitude to have lunch in the Great Hall just to torment him. Minerva probably set it up. He glanced over to her. The thought of her conspiring with Sybil was abruptly terminated when he saw that she looked like she wanted to strangle Sybil. This look was probably the result of the many thoughts going through Minerva's mind at the time. Most of these thoughts were plots to strangle Sybil, or to transfigure her into a large glittering insect, or a depressed flowering shrub that could talk. How dare she spoil a whole lunchtime of tormenting Severus.  
  
At last, at long last, the golden plates were cleared, and the students started to leave for their next class. 'Have a very nice day.' Said Albus. Just because no one can remember when you were born, thought Severus savagely. He stood, turned and walked composedly out of the hall. He had no class to teach now, and was hoping to spend a nice solitary hour or two in his study. He opened his study door, heard a frightened squeak, and saw a small house elf run, terrified past him, towards the kitchens. He glared after it. He was refining his glares, and could efficiently control the level of glare at ease. Today he was having lots of practice at glaring, at specific people, at random passers, at no one in particular, walls, and innocent objects he happened to be holding at the time. He turned to walk into his office when he saw it.  
  
On his desk lay a single package, wrapped in brown paper, a note attached with string. He held the note delicately in one hand, as if it might explode suddenly, which was a fair assumption, as Snape had never seen a note more likely to explode. He unfolded the note. It failed to explode. He read the note. It consisted of five words: Have a very happy birthday. Still the note failed to explode. Puzzled, Severus picked up the package. It was not heavy, but felt as though there was some sort of material or cloth inside. He took the string from around the package and started to unwrap what ever it was that was inside. Both the string and the package did not explode. Wondering whether this was a good thing or not, Snape unwrapped the last bit of brown paper from the package and out slipped a brightly striped pair of socks. He stormed out of his office, intent on finding the person who did this before reconsidering, and walking calmly back, and sat meditatively at his desk. 


	3. Chapter Three - last chapter!!!

The minutes slipped into hours while Severus sat reflectively at his desk. He awoke, as if from a distant dream at the sound of a door slamming, and footsteps coming down the corridor, followed by hurried steps.  
  
The door of his office was thrown open. 'You!' the owner of the footsteps roared. Yes, indeed, me, thought Severus. He looked up, inquiringly. 'Now come, Hagrid, you know it wasn't his fault. He didn't mean it anyway.' Said a voice he recognised. He suddenly realised how dark the room had become, and made out the shapes of the two men talking to him. 'Might I enquire, Headmaster, of what I did not mean to do, and how it was not my fault?' He asked icily. He was getting quite good at talking like that, so that whoever he addressed felt like they were being stabbed by a million icicles while having a bucket of water thrown over their head. 'I'll show ye! I'll show you what yer've done!' Hagrid stormed out. Severus followed, puzzled. Albus looked at the brightly striped socks, which were still sitting on Severus' desk, in amusement, then made his way quietly to his office.  
  
Outside, Hagrid showed him. 'Look!' he roared. Severus looked. He saw three figures through the gloom. He was not in the mood. He was never really in the mood for this kind of thing. But today he really wasn't in the mood. Besides, his robes were getting wet from the newly fallen snow. He hated having wet robes. 'Look!' said Hagrid again. Snape looked and then he saw. He grinned malevolently. He had meant to do this, and it was his fault. The three hippogriffs were glaring moodily around. They were obviously not comfortable with their present situation, which was at the moment pink. At any moment they would turn to a different colour. When he looked over to them again, they had turned an acid green. He had been looking for something to vent his anger on. And the proud hippogriffs were an easy target. A simple potion added to their water, and they would turn different colours at 30-second intervals. It was simple, brilliant and would provide some much needed entertainment. 'I suppose you want me to make them normal again.' He whispered. Hagrid glared at him in confirmation. 'I will have the potion ready tomorrow.' 'Tomorrow? Ye mean they 'ave to be like this until tomorrow?!' He roared in disbelief. 'The potion must have time to brew and boil. Unless you want them to stay like this of course.' He said vindictively. He turned and made his way up to the castle. The snow was falling lightly, making Hogwarts look like a picture from of a Christmas card.  
  
Severus was staring at the rising moon, reflecting on another year gone when he was rudely interrupted by a puddle of icy water. He stepped out of the puddle, and was soaked shin-high in icy water and mud. All he needed now was a giant birthday cake and the whole of Hogwarts to sing him 'Happy Birthday' to succeed in making this the worst day he could remember. He made his way to his office to find some dry clothes. Delightful smells were wafting up from the kitchens. He ignored them and squelched his way through the dungeon passages. He peeled off his wet socks, opened his drawer and stared in horror. The draw was completely bereft of socks. It was completely bereft of every thing, as this was the draw which held only socks. The thought of the striped socks on his desk made him shudder. He was starting to wish the package and the note had exploded. He found some clean robe and resignedly picked up the pair of socks and pulled them over his feet. The sight of them made him shudder. He made sure that the socks did not show under his robes, and then stalked up the passages to the Great Hall.  
  
He looked into the hall and sighed with relief. At least Sybil had had enough of showing herself in the physical world. He didn't know why she bothered to leave her solitude; she only made people annoyed and cross when she did.  
  
Dinner went on much as it usually did. Except that Albus was wearing that smile he was wearing at breakfast and lunch. Minerva looked as though she knew something he didn't. This didn't alarm him; he knew that she knew more about turning desks into pigs than he ever wanted to. But this air she was assuming was especially annoying today. He didn't know why. Maybe she always acted like this and he only noticed it once a year.  
  
The meal ended and the plates were cleared away as usual and the students were preparing to leave. The doors of the Great Hall opened, and through them came a trolley of unusually large size. The trolley was covered in a white cloth which fluttered peacefully as it glided towards the front of the hall. Albus stood and raised a hand to call for silence. The confused whispers of the students died away, but the silence did not end their confusion.  
  
'Today is a very great day. I doubt whether most of you know this, but today marks the anniversary of a very special event.' Confused whispering circulated the Great Hall. Professor Snape looked at Albus in utterly disbelief. He could not believe Albus would do this. He must be talking about something else, he must be, Severus thought. 'So now,' Albus beamed around at everyone, 'I would like you all to sing 'Happy Birthday' to Professor Severus Snape.' With these words the cloth was lifted from the trolley, revealing a huge purple cake, which changed colour at 30-second intervals.  
  
The whole of Hogwarts stood up and started singing: 'Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday.' Severus glared around the Great Hall. He managed to scare some first years into silence, but many were too busy enjoying the moment to pay him any attention. '.to Professor Snape, happy.' His glares were having little, almost no effect, and he had to stop them, and soon. So Severus did the unthinkable. He stopped glaring and assumed a big, wholesome smile. The effect was staggering. The entire hall went silent, stared, then all gasped in horror in unison. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad day after all, thought Severus.  
  
THE END  
  
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